My dear little broccolis💚💚💚
💚Sweetie, Let Me Give You The Daddy💚
"The best investment I ever made, was when I lost fifty million dollars and met the love of my life as a result of that."
‼️Rated M - {Out Of Characters/All Human/Alternate Universe}‼️
‼️Romance/Angst/Drama/Lemons‼️
‼️AS/CG/The Greys/The Steeles/José Rodriguez/Grace Grey‼️
💚Now, in case it wasn't clear, this will be a Christian POV story. and I know you will want Ana's PoV, but it will just be Christian.
💚 READ & REVIEW, DON'T BE A SILENT READER 💚
Chapter 4: Smokey Quartz & Smokey Monkey Shoulder (7,9K)
"With love, Ana and Grace."
With anger, he crumpled the piece of paper, not aware of his surroundings anymore. What he wouldn't give to go back to that night and open the letter then: things could have been different. He would have called Ana, and they would have talked. She could have told him her words of love, instead of writing them and hiding them between the lines.
She could deny it all if she wanted but Christian knew that this letter was more than just letting him know about her daughter, it was a love letter from Ana. A sad one in which she had resigned herself to say goodbye to him, without giving him the chance to even get back to her first.
With love
Such simple words, and yet, they hit him hard. Ana had never told him that she loved him. In fact, she always made sure to never use the word love in his presence. And every time he had tried to bring a conversation toward a possibility of them, she had thrown the contract back in his face. And yet, now she sent him words of love. Now, she was writing to him that she would keep him in her heart, no matter what.
If only things were simpler. If only things would turn out as he wanted them to.
He had no idea what to do. Of course, he knew what Ana wanted from him, but did he really want to do it? Stepping up as Grace's father meant sacrificing a lot and changing a lot of things about his life. It wasn't even a question of was he ready, but more was he willing? It was one thing to help a little girl live, it was another having to be a father to his own child.
He poured himself another glass of whiskey, but when he brought the brown liquid to his lips, he finally realised his mistake and threw it away, putting all his frustration in the motion. He closed his eyes, clenching his jaw and his fists as the gravity of his actions hit him. He was not fit to be a father. He was supposed to help this little girl and had just drunk three glasses of whiskey that would inevitably delay her operation.
"Mr Grey?" Taylor's voice asked, forcing him to open his eyes and face the consequences.
The shattered glass was spread on the floor, each piece mocking him as it reminded him of what he had just done, so he got up, letting Taylor know, "Tell Sawyer he's coming to New York with me for a month or so. We're leaving in the morning."
He left the kitchen, the letter still in his hand as he reflected on whether he should call Ana or not. After all, the letter was clear and there was nothing for them to discuss since his lawyer hadn't sent the papers that would give her full custody of the child.
.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
When he got back to New York, he avoided Ana, only texting to let her know he would see her for the hospital appointment. He didn't want to see the disappointment or condemnation in her eyes when she'd know that he had been drinking, and he was foolishly hoping that he would be able to eradicate all traces of alcohol from his body before the tests on Thursday.
He had asked Andrea to find him a detox diet that would purify his body as much as possible, and as usual, she did not disappoint. In fact, he knew that he was going to have to make her sign a new NDA if he was going to stay in Grace's life as he had told Ana. Andrea was most likely going to be the one who found gifts for the kid, and he needed to make sure that this unforeseen mistake would not be sold to the media by Andrea.
In all fairness, he deeply appreciated how Ana had written the letter and never explained in clear words what had happened between them. If the letter had fallen into unwanted hands, all the person could do was out the child, and at the time, he would have been able to deny it all.
This was an issue he had no idea how to deal with. Thomas had advised him not to contact his PR before he had the results of the paternity test. Roger, his PR, would have to come up with a statement that would protect the company, him and the girls.
On Thursday, he met Ana at the hospital, but to his surprise she was alone. The little girl was nowhere to be seen.
"Karl took the afternoon off to stay with Grace. I didn't want to give her false hopes."
"Oh, so Karl and Jose are still together?" He casually asked, doing his best to hide the lump in his throat. How would she react if the tests did show that he had had a few drinks?
"They got married last year. Grace was the flower girl; she was so cute. I can give you pictures if you want."
He was saved from answering by Dr Cohen who invited them into his office to announce the results of Christian's blood tests. As Ana had told him, Grace shared his blood type, which made Ana smile with relief. Christian observed her as the doctor explained what the next tests consisted off, and he realised that this little thing, that he was indeed a compatible donor, had made her genuinely smile for the first time since she came back into his life.
Dr Cohen seemed confident that surgery could occur rather fast after they get the results if they are conclusive, and so Christian decided to come clean, though he couldn't look at the doctor or Ana as he confessed, "I drank a few glasses of whiskey a few days ago. Could that affect the tests?"
Ana snapped her head at him, her face losing all colour as she said with a trembling voice, "You said that you hadn't drunk in over a month."
"I hadn't. A few days back… I just… I forgot."
She promptly turned her head, showing him the back of her head, but he still saw what she had wanted to keep from him. This was the first time since he had known Ana, that he saw tears in her eyes, and he hated being the cause of her sadness. It was the first time he had ever seen her so vulnerable. No matter what had happened between them, what had happened in her terrible past, he had never seen her shed a single tear. Even when they had parted and she had accused him of treating her like a prostitute, when she told him that he had made her feel worse than Henry, even then she hadn't shed a single tear.
And now, when he was supposed to be fixing everything in her life by giving her kid a part of his liver, now he had made her cry. He reached out but stopped himself when the doctor discreetly slid the tissue box in Ana's direction. She swiftly took a tissue and wiped her face, asking with an incredibly steady voice for the doctor to continue explaining.
Though he listened to what the medical professional was saying, half of Christian's brain was on Ana who had shifted away from him slightly. She was attentively taking in the doctor's words, and when the man declared that he would still perform the tests, to see if Christian's liver was damaged or not, she got up and shook the doctor's hand, saying she would be waiting for his call.
Then she left, without sparing a glance at Christian, who felt extremely judged by the doctor. He reached into his briefcase and took out an NDA as he explained, "I would like you and your staff to sign this."
"Mr Grey — "
"My lawyer insists," Christian cut him off, not interested in hearing how medical confidentiality forced him to silence. He knew all too well that with doctors and nurses the secrets slipped out too often to feel safe.
The doctor shook his head, but took the paper, and so Christian asked, "The few drinks won't really affect the girl, right? It wasn't much, and the whiskey wasn't that strong."
"What do you know of Grace Steele's situation?"
"She's sick and in need of a donor."
"She's urgently in need of a donor. You'd think that since livers are the only organs to regenerate, people would be keen to donate part of theirs, but they're not. Grace has a quite uncommon form of acute liver failure, and I've told Miss Steele that she shouldn't get her hopes up. She is on the urgent patient list, but that takes months. Grace doesn't have months.
Now, I doubt the amount of alcohol you drank will damage your liver if it is already healthy, but it will postpone the operation. Meaning that in the following month, Miss Steele will have to wonder every night if this might be the last time, she is kissing her daughter goodnight."
"You're being very judgmental for a doctor," Christian pointed out, not liking the fact that he was feeling that he was being scolded like a child.
Doctor Cohen looked at Christian, his brows slightly furrowed, as if Christian was missing a crucial point, which made Christian wonder if Ana might know the doctor outside the walls of this hospital.
"How long has she been sick?"
"She had been feeling tired for a few months now, but we've only known she is really sick for a month. And we've only known of how critical her situation is for a week."
Christian nodded, his heart going to Ana who must have not slept well for weeks. But a part of him still took note that as soon as she knew that her daughter was sick, she reached out to him. She might resent him, and be angry at him, but she put her child first.
.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
During the following week, Christian stayed isolated between work and his hotel room. He went back to Esclava, staying at the penthouse, despite how much he hated being there without Ana. In fact, he stayed as much as he could at his office, only going back to the hotel to sleep, and more than once, he found himself avoiding the bed he had once shared with her and slept on the sofa instead.
The Sunday that followed the doctor appointment, Elena came to Christian's room early in the morning with a photo album that Ana had apparently brought for him, accompanied by her daughter. They had waited for half an hour before Ana left, not wanting to exhaust the little girl too much.
And ever since that night, Christian had the same dilemma when he went to bed at night. Should he open the photo album and let the little girl into his life, or should he stay true to his codex and walk out of her life after the operation? After all, Ana had said that she didn't want to tell little Grace of her parentage yet, and she was too young to make the connection on her own.
Every night, he would look at the album but never open it, feeling a sense of self-loathing establish itself in his heart a bit more every time. It was the letter all over again. He feared what might happen thus he was going his usual way of cowardice. And for the first time in his life, his indecisiveness was seeping into his work.
He had always been extremely good at separating work and personal life, even when he was with Ana. He had always managed to relegate his thoughts of Ana so he could focus on work. But he felt that those past two weeks since he discovered that he and Ana had a kid had been anything but productive.
He was so grateful for Ros who was stepping up when he was messing up, though he was sure it was because she thought he was sick. He hadn't told her anything about his recent discovery, and he wasn't planning on doing so. But he had to give her a reason as to why he wanted to swap when he had been the one to insist on her going to New York after the separation.
He had told her that he had an operation coming and it had to happen in New York, so he wanted to spend his pre- and post-op time in the Big Apple. He was pretty sure that Andrea had put two and two together. After all, he had asked her to contact the hospital and pay Grace Steele's current and upcoming bills. And before that, he had asked her to find the best children's hospital in New York.
Since he had been prepared to argue with Ana about the transfer to another hospital that would be more competent, it took him by surprise to know that Ana had already gone for that option. Andrea also slipped a note in her email, stating that the doctor treating little Grace was the grandson-in-law of the late Ann. Which explained why he had been so prompt to judge Christian. He was trying to stay professional, calling Ana by her last name, but at the end of the day, he still knew and cared for Grace more than for a usual patient.
It was with that conflict in heart that Christian decided to go and visit Ana on Saturday afternoon. He stopped by Cartier first, so he could buy her a necklace since he hadn't gotten her anything for her birthday. He thought of calling her first, but he didn't want to give her the opportunity of finding an excuse to avoid him.
He wasn't sure of what he was going to say, or what he wanted to say for that matter. He just wanted to see her, because, in the past, she had always managed to calm his inner turmoil by her mere presence.
She wasn't living in the same place where he went to see her after their separation. In fact, it was a much more reassuring place, though it wasn't as secure as he would've liked. There was still no doorman and the only security that she had was an intercom without any camera for her to check who she was buzzing into her building.
But she didn't fuss, and let him in, though he put that on the fact that she was the one who sent him a letter with her address on it the day he learned about the kid. He was apprehensive about seeing little Grace again and having to talk to her this time, but when Ana opened the door, the girl was nowhere in sight.
"Grace is napping. She's always so tired and … I want her to rest as much as possible," Ana explained as she directed Christian to the kitchen.
He noticed the way her eyes showed a slight hesitation, even though her voice stayed strong. They both sat, Christian taking the tea Ana was offering, not because he wanted to drink it but to occupy his hands. Honestly, at this moment, he would have loved nothing more than a drink with a bit more stong to calm his nerves.
"So …" He cleared his throat. "How do you deal with work?"
"Raymond mostly lets me work from home. On the occasions I must meet clients, I leave Grace with Carla or the guys. She loves spending time with Carla because she gets away with everything there."
"Oh … I didn't know you were that close now."
"A lot has happened over the past four years." She cleared her throat and smiled to hide her discomfort. "Did you get a chance to look through the pictures?"
"No, not yet. I …" His excused died in his throat, but there was no disapproval in Ana's eyes. Just resignation. As if she hadn't been expecting much more from him.
"Well... I will be going to Dubai, tomorrow. I should be back by Wednesday."
She looked at him, fear clear in her eyes, and though she never said the words, he knew very well what she must be thinking. As much as he knew he was entirely to blame for the assumption, he still felt hurt by it.
"I won't drink, Ana. I'm going for business. To Dubai."
"You said the same before, and —"
"I'm not some raging alcoholic! Give me some credit. Do you really think I could be that selfish? Yes, I had a moment of weakness, but I regretted it immediately! If I felt as if it was nothing do you think I would have mentioned it?"
She averted her eyes before getting up and pouring herself another cup of tea, and Christian hated how her silences spoke so much more than her words. He heaved, shaking his head, and peacefully said, "I didn't come here to argue Ana. I don't want us to have a disagreement every time we see each other. I came because … I never gave you anything for your birthday."
He slid the jewellery box towards her, and she critically looked at it, before looking back at him, and for a moment, he saw Raymond standing in front of him. The way she was scrutinising him, analysing his breath, her sharp mind working on every possible outcome of their encounter.
"It's been two weeks."
"I know."
"Your lawyer should have had results of the paternity test by now. I thought you were bringing the documents for me to review and sign them."
"I told him to put everything on hold until after the surgery," he explained, doing his best to hide his annoyance that she had bounced a conversation that had been supposed to be about them, toward the little girl.
"Why?"
"Why not?" He retorted, keeping for himself that she seemed too emotionally drained to take care of everything and make a rational decision about this situation.
"You don't care about Grace, Christian. Why pretend?"
"I never said that."
"You once told me that actions spoke louder than words. You haven't looked at her pictures. You haven't told your family about her. You haven't even spoken to her once since you've known about her."
"You said she was sleeping. I can't talk to her when she's sleeping."
Once again, Ana smiled with that disdain that Christian hated so much. Especially when it was clearly aimed at him. She slid the box back in his direction, and told him, getting back up,
"A teddy bear would have been more appropriate. It's not me you have to prove yourself to."
"I thought you didn't want to tell her yet," he said without thinking. And she nodded as if she had made up her mind about something.
"In that case, you better go. My daughter is going to wake up soon, and I promised her a walk in Central Park. Please tell your lawyer to send me the documents of you giving up custody as soon as possible."
"What about us?"
"I told you before. Things are different. You have your reasons to do what you do, and I have mine."
.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
Christian went back to his hotel feeling even more frustrated than before seeing Ana. He had gone to her because she had always managed to calm him, and give him a sense of peace, but this time she had done nothing but make him feel even worse.
He wished she would just tell him what she was expecting from him, what she wanted him to do. If she wanted him to step up and fully recognise the child, she should just say so, instead of trying to be the bigger person and letting him decide all of this on his own. It was as if she didn't want to take responsibility for his actions, so nothing could be blamed on her later. He knew this tactic all too well, he had used it on numerous occasions in the past.
But he didn't get any time to sulk, because Elliott was waiting in the penthouse, looking at the photo album that Ana had given him and that he still hadn't opened. As soon as he closed the door, Elliott looked up from the album, dumbfounded.
"I thought I was your brother but I guess we aren't as close as I thought," he mused in a whisper, and though Christian kept his face unreadable and cool, he felt the lash of his brother's words as sharp as a whip.
All night long, Christian waited for Ana to call him. He had waited two weeks before asking Andrea to send a hundred roses to Ana's office. Yes, he didn't send any note with the flowers, but surely, she must know they were coming from him. What more could a man do to say he was sorry?
He knew that she was angry at him for showing up at her place when she hadn't ever invited him there, and he fully blamed himself for that. Very early on, it became obvious to him that Ana had trust issues, and so he made sure never to reveal that he had had a full background check done on her before he ever proposed the idea of a contract.
He was sure that he knew more about her than she did. Like the fact that she had been ditched in front of a police station when she was barely a week old, and that the medics doubted that she even had been fed since she was extremely malnourished.
At some point in their relationship, Christian considered telling Ana about this part of her past, but she had never seemed interested in the details of her history. She seemed over it, no matter how justified she would be to want some revenge. Especially against the Millers.
As the hours kept on passing, Christian found himself measuring the passage of time with glasses of whiskey. It was only once the bottle was empty, he concluded that she would not call him. He picked up his phone, just so he could call her and rant about the fact that any other woman on this planet would be swooning when receiving roses at work, but his fingers scrolled only to his brother's name.
Elliott picked up after a couple of rings, his voice still heavy with sleep, though his first words were obviously a joke, "Man, not everyone lives on GMT time. I do need my beauty sleep."
"She left me," Christian whispered. He didn't mean it to be the first thing he said but he just couldn't get past it. Closing his eyes, he felt the sorrow take over him and for a moment, he was so overwhelmed by his emotions that he didn't notice his brother panicking over the phone.
"Christian! Answer me for fuck's sake."
"I … I came back from a business trip, and she was done with me. She doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. She doesn't answer my calls, my texts, not even my emails."
"What happened?" Elliott asked anxiously, and Christian swallowed with difficulty.
He didn't want to tell his brother the whole affair between Ana and him, because it was the only thing he had left of her. The secrecy of their relationship. Sure, Jose knew, but he trusted their friendship enough to know the man would keep their secret.
"Maybe it's for the best. I can focus more on work now."
"Fuck that. Ana is the best thing that happened to you in years, and you know it! I'll call her tomorrow to — "
"No! Leave her be. I don't need you to be a shrink right now and try to fix my problems. I need my brother …"
No matter how much he didn't want to admit it, there had been a few tears shed that night. It took him months to really tell his brother what happened between Ana and him, but that night, he had just uselessly ranted on the dangers of wanting to be in a relationship and how he should have followed his motto and steered cleared from any and all relationships.
Of course, Elliott being Elliott he tried to persuade Christian that it was his hurt ego talking, and that deep down he loved Ana and just wanted her back. But in the end, he didn't push the issue too much and he had been the brother Christian needed. He even came to visit a week later and drank with him, not bringing Ana's name into the conversation even once.
But now Elliott was looking at him with a mix of hurt and anger. He turned the album, pointing at a picture of Grace and Ana, and said, "You have a kid with Ana and you never told any of us?!"
Christian strode to him, snatching the album from his hands and closing it while explaining, "This is news to me, too. I just learned about her last Monday."
Elliott narrowed his eyes in Christian's direction, disbelief clear in them, as he got up from the couch.
"What are you doing here, anyway? Aren't you supposed to be spending the weekend with your kids?"
"I'm here because I was worried about my brother who suddenly stopped communication with me and whose PA told me he decided to stay in New York for the upcoming month. But that's beside the point. I must be honest here; I doubt that Ana wouldn't have told you that she was pregnant with your kid. And it doesn't make sense… She wasn't pregnant when I saw her in February!"
Christian stayed silent, turning his back to his brother, not sure of how to explain the clusterfuck he was in without sounding insensitive. Elliott was a family man, and he wouldn't understand that Christian was worried about his company, about his image if this were to get out, about the fact that had he been smart enough to gear up, none of this would have happened, and he wouldn't be pondering if this was the worst mistake of his life.
"Christian?"
"It's none of your business, Elliott. I'll get Thomas on it as soon as she's feeling better."
"Thomas? Your lawyer?" He asked, before pausing, and realising, "Wait a second, she's sick?"
Christian heaved, putting the album down on the table. Elliott looked him up and down and stormed out of the hotel room. Christian didn't let it deter him and pulled his laptop open to do some work on it. He Skyped Ros for the rest of the afternoon, ignoring her digs on how he was not as productive as usual, until she declared that she needed to socialize, unlike Christian.
Once he was all alone with his thoughts, he did his best to keep busy with more work, but it was becoming harder and harder to do anything work related for the past few days. Shutting off his computer, he put on a pair of trainers and went for a jog, blasting his music as loud as possible to try and drown out his thoughts. Jogging had always been the best way for him to blow off steam and empty his mind, and as always, it worked wonders.
For the next two hours, he ran through the streets of New York, making sure to keep his hoodie on, in case some nosy paparazzo was lurking around, and when he got back to his hotel room he took a long hot shower to relax his muscles.
What he didn't expect after his shower was seeing his brother back in his room, waiting for him. "I'm not in the mood for a lecture, Elliott."
In fact, all he wanted at this moment was a drink. Just so he could relax, so he could empty his mind and feel that life was not spiralling out of control.
"I went to see Ana. She told me everything," Elliott announced, and Christian just looked at him, his jaw and fists clenched.
Elliott had been gone for most of the afternoon, and part of the evening as it was almost midnight. And yet, Ana hadn't kicked him out, saying nothing. She had welcomed him to spend most of the day with her and her daughter.
"She cried a lot, you know. She's terrified she made the wrong decision when contacting you because you've been a monumental ass. My words, not hers. She's scared you will break Grace's heart by disappearing as soon as the operation is done. And … she's terrified that Grace won't make it."
Elliott stayed silent, waiting for Christian to say something, but when the silence continued, he added,
"You do realise that Grace is your flesh and blood? She's not just a contract that appeared out of nowhere, she's a human being. She's your kid. And your kid might die because you've been selfish enough to drink and thus postponing the operation."
"I told you, Elliott, I'm not in the mood for a fucking lecture."
"I really couldn't give a shit about your mood, right now. What I can't understand is why you haven't even tried to talk to your daughter. I mean, Christian, you can't fuck this up. There are no do-overs with kids. If you fuck this up now, you won't be able to fix it later. This isn't a company or a contract! You only get one chance, one opportunity to solidify your bond with your child! If you let it slip, it will be fractured forever, and you will regret it for the rest of your life."
Christian rolled his eyes, anger boiling in him. He didn't want to hear rational words from his brother, he didn't want to know that Ana had confided in his brother rather than in him. He didn't want to picture her in Elliott's arms, crying on his shoulder when she refused to cry in front of him a few days ago. And most importantly, he didn't want to feel the guilt that Elliott's words were causing him to feel in his heart.
It was during this accumulation of mixed emotions that he just snapped and told his brother, "So far, my biggest regret is that I didn't cover up! I wouldn't be in this fucking mess if I had paused for a damn second and thought of putting on a damn condom!"
Elliott looked at him, disgust clear on his face as he shook his head, though he did not leave as Christian had expected him to do. On the contrary, he walked to what used to be Ana's room, telling him, "Ana said you were going to Dubai tomorrow. I'll go back to Seattle then."
"You can't go in there. It's her room. You can take my room; I'll take the couch. I'm leaving early, anyway."
"Good. I'll use the opportunity to rid this place, and your penthouse in Seattle of all alcohol."
"I'm not an alcoholic!" He hissed through his clenched teeth. He was getting tired of having all those important people in his life judging him because of a small lapse in judgment.
"You do realise that is what alcoholics say, right?"
"I forgot. It's not like I drank on purpose. It was a lot to take in, all at once. Anyone else would have made the same mistake."
"You know, I've always thought that despite your awkwardness, you were a great man. You've always been generous. But this … you're just turning out to be a selfish asshole who knows when to pretend that he cares.
I don't care what you want to do about Grace. I'm not giving you a choice. She's my niece, and I will make sure that my kids will play and grow up with their cousin. They lost four years because you were too much of a coward to read a simple fucking letter. And you can make sure that this little girl you're trying so hard to reject is going to know her grandparents as well.
If you don't want anything to do with your own daughter, you shouldn't feel the need to contact the rest of your family either."
.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
When Christian came back to New York from Dubai the next Wednesday, he was exhausted and in a foul mood. Besides having his brother's last words constantly echoing in his brain, work wasn't going as smooth as it usually did. Ros kept on repeating to him that he should take a break, because he seemed on the verge of burning out, but he thought that was ridiculous. He never took time off since he had created his company, because no matter how much he trusted Ros, he didn't feel comfortable leaving it fully in her hands, even just for a week.
So, it was with the sweet thought of his bed that Christian went to his hotel. But as soon as he walked through the lobby, Elena hailed him, to let him know that his parents had taken a room in the hotel. He inwardly cursed his brother for letting them know already. He wasn't in the mood to hear them rant at him. But lately, he was never in the mood for anything.
He went to his parents' room, and Carrick opened the door, looking the angriest that Christian had ever seen him. Growing up, Elliott and he had always feared their Mom a bit more than their Dad. Carrick had always been the cool parent. The one who was laid back and snuck sweets to them behind Grace's back when they weren't supposed to have any.
As soon as he was in the room, Christian said, "I know what you're going to say, but what is done is done. I can't change the past, and neither can you. Elliott already gave me a lecture, so you can save your breath. I'm here because I want to save the kid, I'm doing my part."
Grace shook her head, showing her disappointment as she muttered so low that Christian almost didn't hear her. "You are lucky that this girl still holds you high in her heart. She took the whole blame on her and asked us to not be too hard on you since you knew nothing of this. And yet you refer to her as "the kid" when we're talking about your daughter."
"Mom don't shrink me. I'm tired and sleep deprived. You know it's not what I meant. And anyway, Ana said it herself, she wants full custody."
Grace looked at her son, shaking her head once again, asking more to herself than to Christian, "How did I mess up in raising you for you to have turned out this cold? I thought we gave you all the love you needed growing up, but there is obviously something missing."
"Mom, I told you, stop shrinking me."
"Sure. We didn't actually come for that but as it happens, here we are," Carrick intervened, his tone hard and curt. "We came to see Ana, and we're going back home tonight, to be honest. I just want you to try and understand what Ana went through since you obviously don't care about your own flesh and blood."
Christian rolled his eyes, breathing in deeply as he reminded his father of something crucial, "Ana has always wanted kids."
"Maybe, and you've always wanted your own company. But, Christian, how would have you felt if this company fell into your arms out of nowhere? How would you have felt if you didn't have time to physically and mentally prepare for the challenge that is being the CEO of a company?
Many women fall into depression after a cryptic pregnancy because they don't get those nine months of preparation. It seems mundane, but our bodies and our spirits need those nine months. And Ana was robbed of this. She never got the opportunity to rely on someone else because you refused to talk to her.
So, if you don't care about my granddaughter, try to care about the woman you claimed you love."
"I do care about her. About them both."
Grace stood up and walked to her son, so she could put her hand on his cheek, "Children can tell when they're unloved Christian. If you don't show love to your daughter, you're going to lose her forever. And no matter how Ana feels about you, she will always choose her daughter before you. She grew up without love, and she won't allow her daughter to go through the same pain."
.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
Later that night, Christian was on the floor of Ana's bedroom, wishing more than ever that he could have a drink. With a disabused chuckle, the thought that he might be an alcoholic after all finally crossed his mind. But like with all the similar suggestions, he dismissed it. He was finally looking at the photo album that Ana had given him, each picture with a small footnote.
Grace's first time in a plane.
Grace's first steps.
Grace's first tooth.
Grace's first pigtails (probably the last time as well, she is way too energetic to stay still for just two seconds)
Grace falling asleep on her potty.
Grace pretending, she can read books like her Ma.
Grace & Mommy in the London Eye.
Grace & Mommy waving to the Queen's guards.
Grace's first time being grounded (she turned the bathroom into an Olympic pool)
Grace petting a horse after crying for an hour when she realised how big they were.
Grace in Mulan's outfit, ready to meet Mickey in Paris.
Grace discovering body painting (obviously, she thinks she's a canvas)
Grace and Mommy baking cookies.
Grace learning to write her full name.
Grace at her Godfather's wedding.
It seemed that each picture was a dig at his heart. Grace seemed happy in each one of those pictures. Even those were she was pouting, or the ones where she was obviously grounded, she still seemed happy. Each of those pictures were a reminder to Christian that he had missed a lot of this little girl growing up.
He took one of the pictures out of the album, inspecting it closer. Grace was probably two years old in this picture. It was obvious that Ana had meant to take a nice selfie with her daughter, but at the last second, Grace had taken her mother's face in her little hands and give her a cute open kiss on the cheek. Ana was laughing, her smile so radiant that Christian could almost hear her laugh.
He was not surprised that Ana took so many pictures of their daughter, even in the most mundane positions. Ana always liked pictures, and though she never told him why, he had an inkling.
"And here, you have Christian asking his brother to open a peanut butter jar," Grace explained, showing a picture from Christian's photo album.
He rolled his eyes, staying as far as possible from the cursed object, not eager to see those pictures of himself that would bring him nothing but humiliation. But he was still watching Ana, and though she smiled and laughed with his mother, he could still see that there was something wrong.
For a moment, he just kept looking at the brunette, trying to pinpoint what could be bothering her, sure that his mother's remarks earlier about the Christmas traditions of Ana's family had affected the brunette, despite what she had claimed, when he finally understood.
Ana had no pictures of her own to show. She had nothing that would showcase how she had evolved from toddler to the beautiful woman she was today. All she had were the memories she had made herself. There was no evidence of her growing up.
She must have felt him staring at her, because she looked up, smiling that smile that gave him wings, and when she looked back at the pictures, two things happened at once. His parents exchanged a knowing smile, whilst his brother looked at him, wiggling his eyebrows as he raised his glass of wassail to his lips.
With a sigh, Christian closed the album, though he kept the one he had retrieved in his hands, looking at it with a lump growing in his throat. Ana had been alone to raise their child, she never got to experience the pregnancy that she so desperately wanted, and still, she made sure that Grace would have everything she wanted.
Through the pictures, Christian saw how Ana and Grace had visited some parts of Europe, how she had gotten their child used to the urban life, as much as the rural life. There was also the fact that Ana had made sure that Grace would be bilingual from a young age. He noticed a picture of Grace running away from a goat, her face showing a strange mix of fear and glee.
Never had he craved a drink so badly before that moment. He didn't really care about the taste of a good whiskey, or even the bittersweet burn in his throat, all he wanted was to stop feeling all those emotions at once. And that's why he called Ana, so he could hear her soothing voice, even though it would just be her voicemail.
What he didn't expect was for her to pick up, at the late hour. It was past midnight, and he had been sure that she would be asleep.
"Hello, Christian?"
"I didn't expect you to pick up."
"I wasn't sleeping. I don't… I'm awake."
There was a small awkward silence during which Christian had no idea of what to say. He swallowed with difficulty, wishing he could see her now that he was hearing her voice. He closed his eyes, putting the phone on speaker as he leaned back, his head resting against the bed frame since he was still on the floor.
"I can hang up and let you call back so you can talk to my voicemail if you want."
He chuckled, though it was slightly strangled. He had missed her smart mouth. He had missed her voice. He had missed her.
"Christian?" He remained silent, not sure of what to tell her. There was so much he wanted to tell her, but as usual, he never knew how to properly translate his thoughts and feelings when it came to Ana.
"Christian … are you … are you drunk?"
"No!" He promptly exclaimed, not even bothered anymore that this was her first assumption. After all, he was calling her in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. This seemed very much like a drunk dial.
"But to be honest, I'd love to have a drink, right now."
"Well, don't."
"I won't, Ana. I promise you I won't!" She didn't reply anything, probably not caring much for his promises anymore.
"Ana … I … I'm… I am so sorry…"
Once again, a small silence installed between them. He felt his emotions start to take the better of him, but he refused to shed a single tear, no matter how much they were threatening to spill. He had no rights to pity himself.
"I wish things had gone differently. I wish I hadn't treated you the way I did, and listened more to your fears and hopes, instead of just thinking of covering my ass. I wish … I wish we could have spent those past five years together. I wish you didn't have to raise our daughter alone, that I could have been here with you. I wish that I didn't feel like a stranger to Grace. I … wish things were different."
He cleared his throat, shaking his head to prevent the tears from spilling as he waited for Ana to say something, anything. He had never felt so vulnerable in his whole life, and he hated not being able to see the face of the person who could take this weight off his shoulders.
"I'll never stop you from seeing your daughter, Christian. But if you want to be her father, you have to give it one hundred per cent."
"What if I fail?"
"It's a question that I ask myself daily." He could almost picture the small smile on her face. "I'm not asking you to be perfect. Just to try your best."
.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
The next Friday, Christian was on his way to Ana's so he could have dinner with the girls. It wasn't planned, but he figured that it would be better if it was spontaneous since he couldn't impress a child with making reservations at fancy restaurants. He had no chance of disappointing the girls if they didn't have expectations, to begin with. And Ana had given him the access code of her building, with the promise that he could come and visit Grace whenever he wanted.
He was rather nervous because this was the first time he would ever talk to Grace. He hoped that Ana had never told her anything about her Dad, so she would be unbiased about him. He still wasn't sure if he should step up and assume the father position or not, but he knew that he could no longer simply turn a blind eye and pretend as if Grace didn't exist.
He knocked on Ana's door, his nervousness rising above the roof, but when the door opened, it completely vanished and was replaced by horror. There was a man slightly taller than him holding Grace in his arms, obviously in the middle of sharing a joke with the little girl.
The man had locks darker than ebony and electric blue eyes, his size and muscles impressive, and after briefly looking at him, he stepped aside and motioned Christian to come in as Grace hid her face in the crook of the guy's neck.
"You must be Christian. Ana is taking a bath right now but do come in. We were in the middle of putting together a puzzle."
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.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
💚Your thoughts and opinions are always welcomed💚
💚 I'm always curious about your favourite part, and what you think will happen next, so let me know.
💚 E L James owns the names of the characters from the Fifty Shades franchise, Everything else is mine (including the mistakes and grammar errors).
Love, Mina 💚💚💚